


Jim Likes Pam!

by honey_wheeler



Series: The Paper-Sellers Club [1]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin, The Office (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_wheeler/pseuds/honey_wheeler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pam has a crush...on a boy paper seller!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jim Likes Pam!

**Author's Note:**

> _The cast of characters:_  
>  **Pam Beesly** as Mary Anne Spier, shy doormat with a controlling father  
>  **Angela Martin** as Kristy Thomas, bossy leader and big-idea-haver  
>  **Kelly Kapoor** as Claudia Kishi, ethnic member and phone-owner  
>  **Katy** as Stacey McGill, fluffy-haired, boy-crazy diabetic  
>  **Karen Fillipelli** as Dawn Schafer, girl from out-of-town and individualistic individual  
>  **Jim Halpert** as Logan Bruno, boy paper seller with a dreamy accent

It was a Wednesday afternoon and I was so excited I could hardly breathe. There was no way I could concentrate on much of anything, let alone the meeting going on around me. How could I possibly worry about selling paper when Jim Halpert, the cutest boy in the eighth grade, said hi to me at school today? I couldn’t wait to tell my friends what had happened.

“Pam!” Our club president, Angela Martin, was calling my name and waving her hand in front of me. She was sitting across from me in her customary director’s chair, wearing jeans and a beige turtleneck, a visor on her head. “Earth to Paaa-aaam!” she said impatiently. Angela does almost everything impatiently. She’s my best friend. She has been for almost as long as I can remember, though I’m not always sure why, since we kind of hate each other sometimes and she thinks that my loose hair is sign of a loose woman. I didn’t always wear it loose – for a long time my dad was super strict and he made me wear my hair in braids and he picked out all my clothes and I wasn’t allowed to go to sleepovers or parties or have fun or anything. I think Angela liked me better back then, but _I_ like me better _now_ so Angela can go screw.

But wait, maybe I should explain. My name is Pam Beesly. I’m thirteen years old and I’m an eighth-grader at Scranton Middle School. I’m pretty ordinary: I’m kind of short and I have brownish eyes and brownish hair that’s kind of frizzy. I also have a kitten named Tigger, who is the cutest kitten in the history of time.

And why was I here, trying to pay attention to Angela when all I really wanted to do was run home and write in my diary about how Jim Halpert said hi to me, _me_ , plain little Pam Beesly? The Paper-Sellers Club, that’s why. See, the PSC was this brilliant idea Angela had (Angela’s always having brilliant ideas). She noticed her mother was always running out of paper. Angela and her brothers would have to write on the backs of flyers or receipts, or on the inside of cereal boxes. Mrs. Martin would have to go to as many as four or five stores just trying to find paper. Then one time, when Angela was writing a report on the lax social mores of the Trobriand Islanders on the back of a stack of pizza coupons, it suddenly hit her; she could form a club to sell paper to busy, overworked parents who had no time to get paper on their own!

Here’s how it works: every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday the club meets from 5:30 to 6:00. With just one call, people can reach five girls who can get them the paper they need. Brilliant, right? Since it was her idea, Angela declared herself president ( _president for life_ , she would remind me here – she had it printed on little business cards and everything). She runs the meetings sitting in her director’s chair and wearing her visor. She says it makes her think better. Angela is little and bossy and blonde. She loves telling people what to do, which makes her a natural president. She even coaches a softball team! They’re called Angela’s Annihilators, and their average age is 5.8 years old, and they’re not very good. Angela gets to use a bullhorn, though, so I don’t think she cares if they win or not. She used to live right across the street from me and Kelly, but then her mother married this crazy rich guy named Creed and they moved across town into a gigantic mansion. Angela complains about how showy it is, but I think she secretly likes it.

Kelly Kapoor is the vice-president of the club, because she’s the only one who has her own phone line. Kelly is Indian-American and _gorgeous_ with silky black hair and exotic-looking eyes. She’s super artistic and creative. Like, today she was wearing a baggy, purple-and-pink-striped sweater, purple leggings, one purple shoe, and one pink shoe. On her head there was a jaunty purple beret with little pins and buttons fastened all over it. Even her nails were pink and purple! She says that looking good is all about committing to a theme. She’s also a terrible speller, but she says that’s because spelling doesn’t matter in art or fashion. Angela says it’s because she’s lazy. Angela and Kelly don’t always get along, but they’re stuck with each other since Angela doesn’t have her own phone and Kelly doesn’t have her own brilliant ideas. Kelly’s also responsible for providing snacks. She’s a junk food addict and her parents don’t approve, so she’s always got pretzels and cookies and chips squirreled away around her room. It’s kind of gross, really, when you think about it. Who wants to eat Twinkies that have been sitting in someone’s underwear drawer for a month? You’d think with all the horrible stuff she eats she’d be a big, zitty blimp, but she’s totally thin and her skin is perfect, without so much as a trace of a pimple. More proof that life just isn’t fair.

Then there’s Katy, Kelly’s best friend. Katy is most sophisticated eighth-grader I know. She’s always wearing the trendiest clothes and her hair is perfect and fluffy, just like a pageant contestant’s. Today she had on khaki safari shorts, leopard-print tights, a tiger-print shirt – which she totally filled out, by the way, in another way that life was completely unfair – and even a matching pith helmet. She looked so cute and put together. I felt like a total baby sitting next to her in my knee socks and my blue jumper and my (not filled out at _all_ ) plaid blouse with the Peter Pan collar. I’ve got a closet full of shirts just like it, in every boring color you can imagine. Not like Katy, with her wild-colored leggings and her sparkly jewelry and her fedoras. She even wears make-up! My dad won’t let me wear make-up. He barely even lets me wear shorts. Katy’s great at math, which is why she’s our treasurer. She keeps track of all of our money and restocks our paper supply and takes inventory. Katy also loves boys. She’s always having lunch with the cutest boys at school and going on dates to the roller rink and holding hands, which is the fastest way to get a reputation, according to Angela. Katy also has diabetes so she can’t eat sweets or sugar or she’ll get sick. Kelly says that not being able to eat sweets would be so horrible that she’d rather die. Kelly’s not very sensitive sometimes.

Our last and newest member is Karen Fillipelli. Karen is my other best friend, the one I actually like. She moved here from Stamford and she’s a Connecticut girl at heart. She’s gorgeous, with long, straight hair, and she’s a health food freak. She’s also a total individual, who will do things like bring barley casserole to school for lunch and wear pants all the time. Not even tomboy Angela wears pants as much as Karen does! Since Karen moved here after the club started, she’s our alternate officer and she fills in for anyone who can’t make it to a meeting.

As for me, I’m the secretary! I have the neatest handwriting, so I get to take meeting minutes and keep our order book up to date. I also write down the details about all of our clients and their orders, and I know all the club members’ schedules. It’s a totally cool job and not at all lame like it sounds.

I wasn’t doing a very good job of it today, though. Instead I was thinking about Jim Halpert, and how he smiled at me in the hall this afternoon and said hello in his dreamy accent. You see, Jim Halpert isn’t from Scranton. He just moved here a few months ago from Massachusetts when his father got transferred, and he has the dreamiest accent. He’s tall and funny and cute and he looks just like Cam Geary, my favorite TV star. I imagined him saying hello again tomorrow, asking me to go to the dance with him. I imagined us going steady all through high school and going to the same Ivy League college and getting married in August on a bluff overlooking Long Island Sound, me with a bouquet of lilies and-

“Pam!” Angela’s voice startled me out of my daydream. I blinked and looked around to find the other club members staring at me. Kelly was in the process of unearthing a box of sweets from under her bed. She passed the box to me and Angela, then leaned over and pulled a cellophane packet of wheat crackers from a cowboy boot leaning against her dresser for Katy and Karen. Karen’s always totally grossed out by Kelly’s junk food – she’ll rinse her mouth out if she eats even one marshmallow. Katy, on the other hand, doesn’t have a choice. She nibbled on a cracker wistfully while we scarfed down Ring Dings and licorice.

“Um. What?” I said, clutching my notebook to my chest.

“I called your name three times,” Angela said impatiently. “Have you been taking _any_ notes?”

I blushed and looked down at my lap. “No,” I mumbled.

“What?!” Angela snapped in disbelief, but Kelly interrupted her.

“God, Angela, take a pill, already, no one reads the notes anyway.”

“I do!” Angela replied shrilly. Kelly shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“No one _important_ reads them,” she clarified, ignoring Angela when she turned red and began to sputter. “What’s got you so distracted, Pam?” she asked me. Her eyes gleamed eagerly. Kelly loves gossip. So does Katy, for that matter, and she leaned in and nodded.

“Yeah, let’s hear it,” she said.

“Well,” I started. I wasn’t sure if I should tell them anything. After all, he only said hi, he didn’t ask me to go steady or anything. Maybe it wouldn’t amount to anything and I’d seem ridiculous for getting so worked up. But I couldn’t resist. “Okay,” I said, scooting closer and putting my notebook down on the carpet. “You guys know Jim Halpert, the new boy from Massachusetts?” Katy’s eyes widened.

“You mean the tall, dreamy one who’s in your social studies class?” she asked. I nodded.

“I was standing at my locker today,” I continued, “and he actually _looked_ at me, and you know what he said?”

“What?” Kelly demanded. Even Angela was listening, though she was pretending to make notes on her clipboard.

“He said, ‘Hi Pam’!” Their jaws dropped

“Ohmigod, he knows your name!” Kelly squealed.

“Wait, he knows _your_ name?” Katy asked.

“What did you say to him?” Karen asked before I had a chance to get offended.

“Oh,” I said, leaning back and avoiding their eyes. “You know, I just tried to be sophisticated and cool…”

“You blushed and stammered, didn’t you?” Katy asked flatly.

“Kinda,” I admitted. Katy sighed and pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, I’m bad at boys!” I cried. It’s true, I totally am. I turn into a complete spaz around boys and I don’t know what to talk about.

“Hey, you know what we should do?” Karen asked. Everyone turned to look at her. “We should ask him to be an associate paper seller. That way you can talk to him about paper and maybe you won’t be so nervous!” Everyone got quiet as they thought about it. It was actually a really good idea. Jim’s very tall and charming; tons of people would buy paper from him. But still…a _boy_ paper seller?

“That accent of his _would_ move a lot of cardstock,” Angela grudgingly admitted.

“Everyone in favor?” Karen said, prompting Angela to scowl.

“ _I’m_ president-for-life, _I’ll_ make the motion. Now. Everyone in favor?” Our hands shot into the air immediately.

“We should test him, though,” said Kelly. “Make sure he’s not a dud.”

“Yeah, we’ll send him to Mr. Hudson!” Katy exclaimed. I swallowed nervously. Stanley Hudson was our toughest customer. He never liked the colors we carried and he once insisted on a refund after he’d used almost a whole ream of paper because he found a tiny blemish on one corner of one sheet. We all dreaded his calls.

“Trial by fire,” Angela nodded. “I like it.”

“I don’t know, you guys,” I said hesitantly. “I don’t want to scare him away.”

“Guys want to be a little scared, Pam,” Kelly told me, Katy nodding beside her.

“You know how they’re always competing and stuff,” Katy added. “They like a challenge. They don’t like things to be too easy, so you have to play hard-to-get to make them interested.”

“It’s like a scientifically proven fact,” Kelly said.

“And Kelly and I can totally help you with your clothes and your hair and tell you what to say to him,” Katy added eagerly, looking positively giddy at the thought of a makeover. I glanced uncertainly at Karen, who shrugged, and at Angela, who looked thoughtful.

“Well, maybe…” I trailed off.

“Kelly and Katy _are_ kind of trampy, Pam,” Angela said. “So they’d probably know better than anyone how to get a boy to like you.”

“Then it’s settled!” Kelly exclaimed. “Tomorrow we start Operation Trampy Pam.” I gulped nervously. I wasn’t sure if I liked the sound of this.

*****

“All right, this emergency meeting of the Paper-Sellers Club will now come to order!” Angela barked the next day in the school cafeteria. We were all huddled around a table in the back corner. Katy looked mortified that one of her cool friends might see her. Kelly looked disgusted at the bean-sprout-surprise that Karen was eating. Angela looked annoyed at everyone. And I was looking for Jim. That is, I was looking for him when I wasn’t busy pushing my hair out of my eyes and trying to check my reflection in the back of a spoon. Katy and Kelly had cornered me at my locker and attacked me with the contents of their make-up cases. They’d refused to let me see the results, though, and I was afraid I looked like a clown.

I was wearing my most sophisticated outfit, which wasn’t very sophisticated at all: a white blouse with lace cuffs and a dark blue pleated skirt, with black mary-janes over white knee socks. Katy had gotten one look at me and she’d sighed.

“Is this the best you could do?” she’d asked as she rolled my socks down to my ankles and rolled my sleeves up to my elbows. Rolling is in, I guess.

“Sorry!” I’d said. “You know what my dad’s like.” She just shook her head and attacked my hair with a brush while Kelly came at me with blusher and lip gloss. As a last touch, Katy had pinned a big gold flower to the front of my blouse and slid so many bangles on my wrists that I clanked the whole way to the cafeteria.

“Are you sure my hair should be in my face like this?” I asked after we sat down. I tipped my head back and tried to peer out from beneath what looked like a brown cloud. “How can I get him to like me when I can barely see him?” Katy reached over and smacked my hand as I tried to tuck the hair swooping over my eyes behind my ear.

“Who’s the sophisticated one around here, me or you?” she demanded.

“You,” I said meekly.

“Pam, where is he?” Angela asked impatiently. “Punctuality is vital to paper sales. We can’t have lollygagging salesmen!” She looked ready to spit nails. Luckily I spotted him then making his way through the maze of tables towards us.

“There he is!” I cried in relief. “Hey, Jim!”

“Hey, uh, Pam.” He lifted his hand cautiously in the cutest wave ever and set his tray on the table, trying not to look like he was staring at my ridiculous hair and clown make-up. “You look…different.” I cringed and kicked Katy’s ankle under the table.

“Yeah, um. Well. Hey, corndog day!” I gestured at his tray, and then sighed wistfully. “My dad won’t let me get the school lunch on corndog day. He thinks corndogs are low-class.” As proof I lifted my brown bag lunch. This time Katy was the one kicking _me_ and I squeaked and dropped my lunch on the table.

“What Pam _means_ to say, Jim, is that she’s glad you could come. Isn’t that right Pam?” Katy smiled brilliantly and nudged me with her elbow.

“Oh, right. Yes, that’s exactly what I meant to say.” Jim looked between the two of us with an expression on his face like he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or make a break for it. Luckily Angela jumped in then.

“Let’s not pussyfoot around the issue, shall we?” she said. “Mr. Halpert. You seem like a responsible and sober person.”

“Um. Thanks?”

“You’re welcome. And as such, we have a proposition for you. We are the Paper-Sellers Club. I assume you’ve heard of us.” She imperiously slid one of her business cards across the table towards him. I could have died. Jim looked over at me, unsure, and I smiled apologetically and shrugged my shoulders.

“Uh, sure,” he said, obviously lying. “Sure I’ve heard of you. You sell paper, right?” He got this mischievous little smile on his face and then – you’ll never believe this – he _winked_ at me! Angela beamed.

“Yep, you’ve got a pret-ty stellar reputation,” he continued. She puffed up with pride, her back ramrod straight and her chin high. I slumped in relief. My father would frown at my posture, but I didn’t care. Jim Halpert winked at me! And he was winning over Angela! It was like a day of impossible wishes coming true!

“We would like to invite you to…audition, shall we say, for the PSC,” she told him. “To try out for an associate position.” He made an interested face, nodded for her to continue. “We propose a test run. We would like you to go on a sales call to one of our best clients, Mr. Stanley Hudson. Tomorrow, at 3pm, you will meet with him and show your mettle. Accompanied by Pam, of course.” She leaned in, then, and arched one eyebrow. “Will you accept this challenge?” Her voice was grave and solemn and I almost giggled.

“Madam,” Jim intoned, his face utterly serious. “I would be honored.” I couldn’t keep the goofy smile off my face and Katy had to pinch me under the table to calm me down. Then he stood up and collected his tray. “Ladies, if you will excuse me? I have much preparation to do.” He nodded at each of us in turn, and winked at me _again_ , and then he headed out of the cafeteria.

We managed to wait until the door had closed behind him before we started squealing in earnest.

*****

“You sure you’re ready?” I asked. We were standing on Mr. Hudson’s curb. We’d gotten there five minutes early but I was making Jim wait until it was 2:59 exactly. Angela hates when people are early. She thinks it’s presumptuous. She used to think it was regular old rude, but that was before her rich stepfather Creed got her a Princeton Review Word-a-Day desk calendar.

“Relax, Pam,” Jim said with a grin. “I’ll have him eating out of the palm of my hand.” I’d already gone over our products with him, told him all about the club. It was only when I tried to talk about normal stuff that I got all tongue-tied. Which reminded me…

“Sorry about calling corndogs low-class yesterday,” I said all in a rush before I could think better of it. “They’re probably, like, your favorite food and I totally insulted you and you hate me and never want to talk to me again or whatever.” I was staring down at my shoes. They were loafers and I hated them. Jim was wearing those cool Converse sneakers, the ones Kelly calls Chucks, and he had on cool-looking jeans and really, he was so cute I could have died.

“Nah,” he said in that dreamy accent of his. “My parents think they’re low-class too. That’s why I hide the school menu from them. They thought yesterday was Sloppy Joe day.” One of his sneakers nudged at the toe of my loafer and I felt really weird, like that time I had a sno-cone at the fair and got all dizzy from the sugar. I took a deep breath and looked up.

“Really?” I said. He was smiling and his hair was all messy and boyish.

“Yup,” he replied. Then his expression turned serious and he stepped a little closer to me. “Hey, Pam? I was thinking.”

“Yeah?” It was amazing I could even say that much. It felt like there were frogs jumping around in my stomach.

“There’s a dance coming up,” he said. The frogs turned into kangaroos. I had to concentrate on breathing through my nose so I wouldn’t pass out.

“Mmhmm,” was all I could say.

“I was thinking maybe we could go together,” he said. He was looking at me expectantly. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would throw up all over his shoes and Katy and Kelly would _definitely_ not approve of that.

“Sure,” I managed. “That would be fun.” His face broke into a huge grin.

“Great,” he said. “It’s a date.” And then I must have fallen asleep, because I _had_ to have dreamed him leaning forward and kissing me on the cheek, right by the corner of my mouth. It _couldn’t_ have really happened. My face tingled. I touched the spot where his lips had been, wondering if I was in one of those fugue states I’d read about. I was about to ask him to pinch me and wake me up, but he grinned and held up his watch.

“3 o’clock, on the button!” he announced and marched purposefully up the walk, leaving me to trail after him in a daze.

*****

“So, Pam,” Angela asked after calling that night’s meeting to order. I’d practically skipped up the stairs and now I was having trouble sitting still. I kept doodling in the margins of my notebook, little stick figure boys and stick figure girls holding stick figure hands and going to the stick figure school dance. “How did it go with Jim and Mr. Hudson?”

“Good,” I said, looking up from my scribbling. “Really good.” She frowned at me.

“It went _well_ , Pam,” she corrected. “Did Mr. Hudson buy anything?”

“He bought a whole case of Astrobright,” I told her proudly. Angela’s jaw dropped dramatically and I couldn’t help but smile.

“A whole case?” Karen exclaimed. “Last time I was there he said he would only buy Astrobright if it was made out of moonbeams and pixie dust!”

“He told _me_ he’d only buy it if I could personally deliver it to him on a unicorn,” Katy added.

“What color?” Angela demanded, her eyes narrowing. I paused, savored it. It wasn’t often I knew I could make Angela speechless.

“He bought the Lunar Orange,” I said smugly. They all sat back in disbelief.

“We’ve been trying to move that for _months_!” Kelly shrieked. Angela’s jaw got even closer to the ground. Her eyes were like saucers. She sat back in her director’s chair and pressed her hand weakly over her heart.

“And guess what?” I added. I couldn’t resist.

“Don’t tell me he sold the Cosmic Purple, too,” Karen said in disgust. “That I won’t believe.”

“No, no,” I said, waving my hands dismissively. “No, it’s not about paper.” Kelly sucked in a big breath.

“Ohmigod, did he say he likes you? What happened! Pam, don’t just sit there, tell us what happened!”

“I’m trying to!” I cried. Kelly sat back and watched me in anticipation. “Well,” I started, suddenly feeling shy and kind of silly. They’d all kissed hundreds of boys. Well. Angela hadn’t. But still.

“Paaaam, come on! You can’t leave us hanging!”

“He kissed me,” I squeaked. “And then he asked me to the dance!”

“Oh. _Wow_.” Kelly’s expression had become a lot like Angela’s – eyes round, mouth open. “Wow, Pam, this calls for a celebration!” She reached under her pillow and produced a bag of Hershey’s Kisses, then jumped off her bed and grabbed a bag of plain popcorn from behind a zebra-print cowboy hat on the top shelf of her closet.

“Dude, Pam!” Karen said. “Good job!” She held out her hand for a high-five and I slapped it awkwardly with mine. Kelly passed around the food and I took a whole handful of Kisses. Who cared if I ruined my dinner? I was going to the dance with Jim Halpert!

“You said yes, right?” Katy asked.

“Of course I did!” I exclaimed. “He asked right before we had to meet with Mr. Hudson, though, so I didn’t have a whole lot of time to think about it. I just kind of…blurted it out.”

“This guy’s good,” Katy said, nodding appreciatively.

“All in favor of making him an associate member?” Kelly asked immediately, raising her hand above her head as she said it. Angela was still so shocked that she didn’t even protest Kelly’s motion.

“Aye!” we all chorused, raising our hands. Even Angela raised hers!

“Then it’s settled,” I said, feeling uncharacteristically bold. “Jim Halpert, welcome to the PSC.”

“And Pam?” Katy added. “Welcome to the big leagues!” She stuck out her hand and I shook it, blushing. Things were about to get pretty interesting!


End file.
